-baby pout .
  1. fed by a sparkling silver spoon ripely red of rust ; deep slumbers of trust thrust me high up upon a sour pedestal- I dig into my deep pockets for remnants of sweets ; the bitter bites I take are only remembrances of how I've never bruised my hands on a hammer, I've never reached for the stars without a booster seat cradling me;
  2. Buckled in; Legs Flailing; - Pout Baby Pout while the vagabonds sip the salty tears that shoot down to the cement from the whining infant man. With such mass amounts of undeserved hope I have lost my ability to scratch up the ladder -as I see my peers boots tied, gloves tighter, desperately reaching for soil of a path to travel-
  3. - I sit in the muck n the mire sleeplessly tired from these pretend golden shackles pathetically scraping my conscious for ways to convince myself it's not my fault; when it is, it is my fault; when bestowed opportunities that I chew up n spit out I am gnawing upon the feeders hand - pout baby pout.
  4. father cracked the hammer to the railroad many of days to give me what he didn't have, acquired knowledge his peers were incapable of fathoming, just so I could become something he never could ... a spoiled rotten brat ... I see how dimly lit the house is behind the tall white picket fence ...
  5. no matter how many lightbulbs you shove inside, nothing is illuminated ... no matter how many lightbulbs you smash up and slide in your children's lunch - they will not spew the light ... some things shine , others believe that things shine for them ... *throws bar of soap at mirror* ... AAAAND scene